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On a dull day you can see forever


Clean glass looks good 
On a dull day
The rubber sweeps the wet to the right
And the scrim wipes away the residue
In a downward sweep
Like a pin ball machine on tilt
My fingers sore
The window weeps

It’s as if a picture
Has been meticulously cleaned
And the greens and blues 
Take on a life 
The hills fold in on themselves
Newly hatched and attached to the backdrop
Clean, crisp lines breathing in perfect harmony

I watch and wait

Later, as I stare out the scene alters
And slowly it becomes corrupted
The low cloud hangs like a mourning mist
Over the sad spooked houses
The old church spire
Puncture-tips  the sky
And the early morning fog
Tumbles down onto  the Perigourdian roof tops
Forming a impenetrable mass
Eating its way into the early morning village life

The postman carries on unaware
The Marie opens on rusty hinges
And the secretary hangs heavy over her desk
The dull day dictates the moods

“And all this from one window?
Nineteen more to go “


The Bored Bard

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 6/20/2019 2:57:00 AM
"Perigourdian"....I love it...
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Date: 6/30/2018 6:55:00 AM
Ahh, such a lovely poem this is, you have used some of the great imagery in it and I really enjoyed reading this poem of yours
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The Bored Bard
Date: 8/2/2018 2:53:00 PM
Hi Faraz..thanks for your kind words